Eternal Soldiers
by LoveInChains
Summary: Perfect Synergy Universe: In the middle of the war, every soldier faces struggles. And some don't walk away from them. /featuring Max's brothers


**Eternal Soldiers**

"_War is the science of destruction._" - John Abbott

* * *

"Hey, Dugan! Get your ass up!"

"I'm up, I'm up!"

It'd been nothing but 4:00 AM wake ups for the past few days in our camp. It was some cross between a punishment and actual survival since bombs were getting dropped on us before we all got a chance to wake up. They didn't take any of us out, yet. And I counted my lucky stars for that but I still hated getting up early. 6:00 AM wake ups were bad enough for me as it was. I sat up in my bunk, yawning and stretching my arms overhead.

"Looks like the ginger is up!"

I rolled my eyes, standing and turning to make my bed. "Isn't that what I just said?"

The annoying guy bothering me that early in the morning was Lieutenant Riley Curtis. He and I'd gone through boot camp together and somehow we got assigned to the same squadron when war broke out. He swung an arm over my shoulders, effectively forcing me to double over and roll him off of me.

"C'mon, Luke!" He laughed, bouncing onto my bed. "What's the point of all this if we don't have a little fun!"

_Did he seriously just say that. _"How about stop the war?"

"That can come later." He continued to joke.

Half the guys in the unit hated Riley's antics, but he reminded a lot of my little brother Collin so I managed to put up with him. I sighed, thinking of him. First we lost Gabe when he was only eight years old, and now I've lost my youngest living brother to a pointless war. Maybe I let Riley get away with more than he should've, maybe I should've intervened when he strung up half the unit's clothes up a flagpole and got us into this mess; I just couldn't do it. I think the others understood, but they were getting a bit fed up with it all.

"Get off my bed, Curtis." I said sharply, yanking the sheet out from underneath him and sending him like a rock to the floor.

He lay there, laughing like a complete moron, when I saw the bright flash of light.

"_Everyone get down!_"

* * *

_97... 98... 99... 100..._

"Put your back into it, Dugan!"

_They seriously think this is a punishment?_

I was stuck running drills thanks to my CO. No one in my squad said it, not that they could, but they knew it was because he was just a homophobic bastard. There wasn't any other reason for me to be running five more miles than anyone else and doing 500 more push-ups on top of it. I behaved. I didn't get into fights. I woke up with everyone else. I went to bed with everyone else.

_197... 198... 199... 200..._

"Is that all you can do! C'mon!"

_I'm not even breaking a sweat here, old man._

How many times did I work out to suppress my gay urges? If I wasn't holding a barbell in my hand then I was probably holding onto a protein shake or a stress ball. Or I was punching some fucker in the face. This asshole wasn't giving me anything I couldn't handle. Not by a long shot. So I continued, pushing myself up and lowering myself back down again, rinse and repeat. If I stopped I might've stood up and knocked his lights out, and then I'd get a _real _punishment.

"Sir, we need to head out to the field-"

"Don't blame me because we're taking so long, blame this _idiot _who can't follow simple instructions!"

_That's why I'm doing 500 push-ups? Because I didn't shine my boots within five seconds of you telling me to?_

"Sir, they're radioing for back-up, we're the closest squadron to the rally point."

The old coot groaned, kicking out my arm from underneath me and sending me into the dirt. I let out a bit of a laugh, I couldn't help it, when I thought I saw something catch light off in the distance. My eyes widened and I shouted as I scrambled to my feet and pulled out my pistol from its holster,

"_Get down! Get down!_"

* * *

We were all camped out in the jungle, the last place you want to be in the middle of Vietnam. I'd just gotten back after my medical leave and I was stuck at the worst outpost there was. You'd think I'd get some sort of special treatment for being a cripple. No such luck. I was stuck with the absolute worst idiots in that godforsaken country getting my ass bit to hell by mosquitoes.

"Hey, Dugan! Get over here, we'll deal you in!"

_A bunch of idiots with a gambling streak._

I chuckled quietly to myself as I sat against the base of a tree. "Someone needs to be look out."

"Your eyes will work perfectly well from over here, we promise."

I threw them an incredulous look, knowing that they'd proved to be too obnoxious to ignore. "If I join and one of you gets shot, you aren't allowed to blame me, right?"

"Of course we'll blame you. You're the responsible one!"

"That's reassuring." I mumbled, giving up and heading over to join them.

We played for a few minutes, drinking alcohol when we weren't supposed to, discussing heading into a village and finding a cheap date, and other stupid things that would get us in trouble. They were the worst. And they were also my best friends. I'd served with all of them since I transferred to the Navy and they always were ready with a joke. But, when it came down to it, they were as serious as could be. Which is all you can really ask of a bunch of jarheads in the middle of a war.

"Looks like Dugan takes the pot!"

I rolled my eyes. "Do you really think I want the dirty socks you bet with?"

"We aren't allowed to use money!"

"We aren't allowed to gamble period you moron!"

"Hey, ladies, you're both-"

The Gunny was silenced suddenly, followed by a gross gurgling sound. We looked at him, a shaft of an arrow sticking out from the center of his throat. He gasped for air before slumping over and falling onto his side. Quickly we all pulled out our rifles and scoped out the area. _Shouldn't've listened to those bastards. We're probably surrounded._

There was a flash grenade and I couldn't see a thing as gunshots rang throughout the jungle.

* * *

It was a warm day in June in New Mexico, meaning it was almost too hot to bear. Alex had gone to the market to get us something cold to eat after all the lighthearted complaining I did. Being in this house all by myself though, it was a bit odd. After raising seven kids, seven _loud _kids, it was almost unnatural to be that quiet. I put on the record player just to distract me from the perpetual quiet. When it was quiet, I couldn't help but think. And I usually ended up thinking about the children I'd never see running through the halls ever again. Collin, Gabe. I'd lost my youngest far too early, and then we thought we lost Max for a time. My little girl. But she pulled through and now she's back, alive and well.

_I wonder where she is. _

We hadn't heard from her for months, almost a year. She said that she'd done something awful and that she couldn't bear to face us. We didn't know what she meant or if she knew about Collin, but she probably didn't. We weren't going to search her out just to give her bad news either. She'd come home when she was ready. Though, she might not want to stay after hearing about her closest brother. Perhaps it wouldn't be as bad as with Gabe, though she was so torn up over losing her twin. Not that anyone could blame her. We'd be there for her, as we always were.

The doorbell rang suddenly and I went to answer it, opening the door and offering, "Yes?"

"Sergeant Dugan?" The person asked, decked out in full uniform but no one I was familiar with, surely.

"Yes, how can I help you?"

"I-it's your son. Devin - Devin's dead."


End file.
